


The Broken Window

by HoopyFrood (If_Ive_got_you)



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/If_Ive_got_you/pseuds/HoopyFrood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is presented with a problem involving a broken window and a mystery intruder, however nothing has been stolen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Broken Window

**Author's Note:**

> My first shot at a serious mystery.   
> Please excuse any mistakes or any lack of fluency with the original stories.

I was awoken by the clanging of hooves against cobbles; I had no surgery that day but was not in the mood for sleep. Feeling peckish, I quickly dressed and went down to see Holmes sitting in his chair by the fire with his knees around his ears, reading the newspaper. The gas-light above his head was burning brightly and the drapes were still closed, giving Holmes a slightly ethereal look surrounded with yellow light.

As I made a cup of tea and tucked into some toast there was the sound of a carriage drawing up outside, followed by a single sharp ring of the bell.  
‘A client.’ Holmes said eagerly, placing his newspaper to one side and sitting alert. There was a minute or so pause and then the sound of footsteps rang out on the stair and there was a gentle knock on our door.  
‘Come in.’ Holmes called, springing to his feet. A women of average height emerged through the door, she was fashionably and expensively dressed.

  
‘Mr Holmes?’ she asked, addressing the question to Holmes who was now ushering her to my chair by the fire.  
‘That is I.’ He replied re-taking his seat ‘How may I be of service? It must be important since you left your house in such a hurry. Although I am pleased to note that your maid did make you have some toast and jam first.’ A slight frown crossed her face and she asked, puzzled ‘How could you possibly know that?’ I too was intrigued, as I could see that it could be deduced that she left in a hurry, due to the fact that she was here so early and there must be some-thing wrong, but I could not think how he knew what she had eaten.  
‘See here on your right cuff, below the wrist, there is a small sticky mark, hardly noticeable. Your clothes are obviously fresh on this morning, so it can only have come from careless cleaning or from breakfast. Due to your obvious wealth and social high-standing it cannot have been the former so must, naturally, be the latter. The only things at breakfast that have that sticky consistency are jam or marmalade, due to the shade I thought jam more likely, and you would not eat it on its own, therefore the toast, which also crumbles leading to a small falling speck and the stain.’  
‘You really do make it seem so simple!’ I laughed.  
‘It is hardly my concern that you over complicate things, Watson.’ He replied, raising his eyebrows, but obviously pleased that I took such joy in his, to him, simple deductions.

  
‘You really are as good as I have been told.’ the woman said ‘And you are right, it is important. I have a most perplexing problem that needs your attention, Mr Holmes.’  
‘Oh good. I hope you will not mind if my friend Dr John Watson listens in. But it’s just that I find his presence most useful.’  
‘No, that's fine.’  
‘Good. Then please, what is the problem that vexes you so.’  
‘My name is Miss Lucy Reeve; I live in Kensington with my father, who is in America on business at the moment. This morning I was woken at five thirty by my maid, Clara, who informed me that there had been a break-in into my dressing room. I was shocked, the perpetrator would have been just in the next room, only a door away, and I had lain there, oblivious. I rushed to see for my-self what had been taken. The window had been smashed on the lower section and glass was all over the floor, but as I looked around the room I couldn’t see that any-thing was missing. There are two doors into the dressing room, a door between it and my bed chamber and a door that leads out into the corridor. But it did not seem to have been opened; nevertheless me and Clara searched the rest of the house and found nothing missing. Naturally I first called the police, however they seemed to believe that since there was nothing stolen no charges could be pressed. I then called my father and he suggested I come and talk to you. All I really want to know is who broke into my home, why, and if they are likely to do so again.’

  
‘Most interesting’ mused Holmes ‘I wonder Miss Reeve if you could describe your dressing room for me, the layout of furniture, so forth.’  
‘Yes, well there is a big bay window at one end facing a small garden, opposite this is a large mirror.’  
‘I see’ interrupted Holmes ‘and is your new picture to the right of this mirror as you face it?’  
‘Why yes! How could you possibly...’  
‘I thought so. Please continue.’ He prompted.  
‘Of course. Umm, well also to the right of the mirror is a dressing table, and against the opposing wall are a large wardrobe and the door to the hall. In the middle of the room is a chaise lounge.’  
‘And the door to your room is set in the same wall as the mirror hangs?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘But on the edge?’  
‘Yes.’ Holmes closed his eyes as if visualising the room.  
‘Are there any new marks or scratches on the mirror?’  
‘No.’

  
‘I think it would be most helpful if I could see this room and your home; today, if I may.’  
‘Of course, I will be out but I will let Clara know to let you in and help you with any-thing you may require.’  
‘Good. Then I think, if you wish, you may return here tonight, at let’s say six, when I shall give you the answer.’  
‘Gosh! Do you really think that you will know who broke in by then?’  
‘Miss Reeve I am almost certain now. I merely need to iron out a few details.’  
‘Thank-you Mr Holmes.’ She said as she stood.  
‘Farewell Miss Reeve.’ Said Holmes following her to the doorway. ‘I do hope the novel picks up.’ I had just enough time to see her spin and her jaw drop before Holmes closed the door and sat back down.

  
‘You can’t possibly know who broke in just from that!’ I exclaimed once she had gone.  
‘You are quite right, Watson. I do not know for sure but I have one very strong theory that I am quite sure will be proven when I visit the Reeve household this afternoon.’ I shook my head still totally lost and in awe of his deductive powers.  
‘And what was all that about a picture and novel?’  
‘It is quite simple, dear Watson. The fact the picture is new is evident by her hat and that her maid is at least half a foot shorter than her. And I merely commented on the fact that it was quite obvious that she was reading a disappointing novel and hoped it got more interesting before the end.’  
‘Her hat!’  
‘Yes it was slightly skewed to the left leaving a hair pin marginally visible on the right.’  
‘So?’  
‘Well as she explained the window was boarded up this morning leaving her able to use that room to dress in. As she dressed her eye would be drawn to the painting, leaving her head turned slightly to the right even when she went to look at her-self in the mirror. It must be fairly new because she was still interested in how it looked even though she was concerned about the apparent break-in of her home. This would leave her head not squared in the mirror therefore meaning she would set the hat askew and would be unable to see the offending hair-pin. This lead me to deduce that her, obviously attentive maid, must be at least half a foot shorter than her, thus unable to see her hair and hat from a higher or level vantage point and thus not being in the knowledge to fix it.’  
‘Brilliant!’ I exclaimed.  
‘Thank-you, Watson.’  
‘I have some clients this afternoon so I fear that I shall be unable to accompany you to Miss Reeve’s house.’  
‘That’s quite all right, Watson. It will take but a moment.’

 

*   *   *

 

I arrived back at 221b, after an after-noon at the surgery, at five thirty, just before Miss Reeve was due to come. I was soaking since it was pouring with rain and it had taken me an inordinate amount of time to hail a cab. Holmes was sitting on his chair with his feet up on the mantel piece and his hands were pressed together with his chin resting on the tips, his eyes were tight shut and he was deep in thought. The door banged shut behind me and his ice blue eyes flicked open, turning on me.

  
‘Raining out?’ he asked cockily, taking in my sodden form. I frowned as I dripped.  
‘How did it go today? Did you find what you were looking for?’  
‘Yes, it was most satisfactory. Do you mind if you we do this when Miss Reeve arrives? I find saying things twice tedious.’ I frowned again and stalked out of the room to dry off and change before six.

  
At six ‘o’clock sharp a ring of the bell announced Miss Reeve’s arrival, there was again a short pause before the sounds of foot-steps upon the stairs were heard. She knocked once and I promptly let her in and bid her to take my chair.  
‘So Mr Holmes, have you discovered who the perpetrator is?’ she asked once she was seated.  
‘First I must ask you if you were of the habit of keeping a hand mirror in your dressing room?’ was his reply.  
‘Well, yes. I suppose I did, yes.’  
‘Then to answer your question yes I have discover who it is. Although it is more a case of what than whom, it seems.’ At this Miss Reeve and I grew quite puzzled.  
‘Whatever do you mean, Holmes?’ I asked.  
‘The intruder was none other than the escaped Capuchin monkey Mr Shazzels.’  
‘What?’ both I and Miss Reeve exclaimed.

  
"I will explain fully what I did today and the chain of events that led me to deduce what had happened. Then if you have any further questions you may ask them. My suspicions began this morning when Miss Reeve remarked on the small entry hole in the window and that nothing was stolen. I had just read in the advertisement section of the newspaper that a Capuchin monkey had recently escaped from a circus that was showing on Kensington green, who went by the name of Mr Shazzels. But my suspicions needed confirmation with facts so this afternoon at two ‘o’clock I took a cab to Miss Reeve’s residence in Kensington.

"From outside the front of the house the boarded window was on the third floor and only partly obscured by a large tree. So it seemed that whoever entered from this point must have been rather a good climber. As you had promised, Miss Reeve, your maid, Clara, was very accommodating and promptly showed me to the room of incidence. On walking towards the room, in the corridor, it seemed highly unlikely that any intruder had exited the room. It was lain out as was described earlier, with the broken window boarded up. There were no foot-prints or scuffs on the rug that would indicate a person moving in a hurry.

"On closer observation, however, there were some small, barely detectable, finger prints on the wood of the dressing table that were much too small to be from a human adult. They could therefore have only been left there by a child or a small primate, since there were also some minute cat-like scratches there as well; I thought the latter more plausible. I then looked at the glass that had been swept to below the window. It was quite clear to me at once that the glass had come from two different sources, the majority obviously came from the window, but a small proportion was not window glass at all but had a reflective backing so was from a mirror. But the only mirror that was in the room at this time was the large wall one, which was quite undamaged.

"The pile of glass was also clearly not large enough to actually fill the broken window, on questioning Clara informed me that no glass had been thrown away. Hearing this I immediately went outside, to the front of the house, and searched the bushes and flower beds below the dressing room window. On doing so I found more window glass scattered around a wide area, so it seemed that once the intruder had broken in he then threw something out thus breaking the window again and causing the glass to shatter over such a wide area. After just a few more minutes of searching I found a broken hand-mirror.

"This all lead me to deduce the following series of events. Last night we had some lightening, which is not in itself unusual, but Mr Shazzels happened to be seeking refuge in the tree outside your house at a time that coincided with one of these flashes of light. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging on your wall, but being merely a monkey thought that it was another of his kin. He smashed wildly at the glass until he broke the window and was able to gain access. On dropping to the floor in the room he lost sight of himself in the large mirror and searched the room until he found your hand mirror. Being so close to another of his kind he probably felt territorial and didn’t understand that what he was seeing was himself, causing him to throw that mirror from the room in a rage. This then broke the window again and lead to what I found outside the house. Mr Shazzels now confused and disorientated, fled the scene."

  
‘Fantastic!’ I exclaimed.  
‘It is indeed an extraordinary series of events.’ Miss Reeve, who looked quite, taken aback, commented.  
‘Quite. So it seems that you have no reason to worry about intruders at all. All you need do is close you curtains at night and you should have no more monkey trouble.’  
‘Thank-you very much, Mr Holmes. You have laid my mind quite to rest.’ She smiled and got out her purse, but Holmes stood and shook his head.  
‘Payment is not necessary’ he said kindly ‘it was such a trifling matter that it really does not warrant it.’  
‘But really I insist...’  
‘No that really won’t do.’ He continued, ushering her out of the door ‘Farewell Miss Reeve.’ He closed the door and sank back down into his chair once again.

  
‘But Holmes, whatever happened to the monkey?’  
‘That my dear Watson is a complete mystery. Although I doubt it will trouble Miss Reeve again.’  
‘And how could you be so sure about the mirrors?’  
‘You noticed that there was always a small pause between Miss Reeve entering the house and climbing the stairs and that she always looked immaculate.’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Well it seemed clear to me that she was spending that small amount of time touching up her appearance in a hand mirror so it seemed to follow on that she would have one in her dressing room, which lead for me to look for one at her home.’  
‘Why that is quite extraordinary.’  
‘You flatter me, Watson.’


End file.
